


abyss

by subsequence



Category: VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe - Priests, Corruption, Demons, Happy halloween, Loss of Virginity, M/M, vaguely creepy vibes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-20 04:30:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12425067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/subsequence/pseuds/subsequence
Summary: The man first appears at Taekwoon’s Easter service. He sticks out like a sore thumb — among the pastel button-downs and floral dresses, his black suit looks severe in a way that doesn't befit the holiday in Taekwoon’s opinion.Taekwoon tells himself that's the only reason he notices the man.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hmm probably some dubcon elements so!! take care of yourselves!!!! don't read if you're not up to it ❤

The man first appears at Taekwoon’s Easter service. He sticks out like a sore thumb — among the pastel button-downs and floral dresses, his black suit looks severe in a way that doesn't befit the holiday in Taekwoon’s opinion.

Taekwoon tells himself that's the only reason he notices the man.

If he stuck out at Easter, it only becomes more apparent as spring turns into summer. Even when the air conditioning breaks in the church in mid-July and a third of Taekwoon’s congregation disappears and the remainder show up baring as much skin as they dare in God’s house, the man wears black head to toe, apparently unperturbed by the heat. While everyone around him fans themselves with the offering envelopes, the man sits calmly in the first pew, regarding Taekwoon in a way that makes him sweat more than the heat of the room.

Taekwoon tries not to look at the man. Even when he can't quite keep his eyes away, he tells himself it's simply because the man is _right there_ in the front row.

One night, he lets his curiosity get the better of him. He sifts through the church membership and the sign-in slips that visitors fill out, hoping to find some name or face that sticks out to him. But when he scans the list of names, all he sees are familiar parishioners and visitors who introduced themselves to him already. There's no sign of the man in the black suit. He resigns himself to not knowing and resolves to let the matter go.

Apparently, the man in the black suit isn't going to make it that easy for him.

As Taekwoon is starting his service the next Sunday, his eyes invariably land on the man. This time, the corner of the man's mouth quirks up in a smirk and he reaches for the little sign-in book at the end of the pew, his eyes only leaving Taekwoon's when he looks down to write.

Taekwoon tries to focus on his sermon, but throughout the entire service, his mind is fixated on getting to that book and reading the name written there. He stumbles over the Apostle’s Creed after communion, something he hasn't done since he was in seminary, and he swear he hears a chuckle; but when he turns his eyes to the man in the black suit, there's nothing to suggest that he was doing anything other than listening like any other member of the congregation.

Taekwoon ends up rushing through the last portion of his sermon, his mind hardly present at all for the Lord’s Prayer, but finally, _finally_ he's shaking hands and saying goodbyes as the congregation slowly trickles out of the church.

He casts a glance around the sanctuary to ensure he's alone before rushing to the first pew and snatching up the visitors book the man had written in. His gut sinks in disappointment as he notices most of the spaces are left blank — no address, no phone number, no marital status. All that's there is a single name.

“Sanghyuk," Taekwoon says, trying the name out on his tongue.

“You called?” a voice says from behind him, far too close and with no warning.

Taekwoon startles so badly he drops the visitors book and it falls to the pew with a quiet _thump._

“Ah, did I scare you?” Sanghyuk asks with a tilt of his head. He doesn't sound sorry; instead, he sounds curious, maybe even amused.

“I — I thought I was alone,” Taekwoon replies. “What can I do for you?”

“I rather thought you wanted something from me,” Sanghyuk says. He's not smiling, but Taekwoon gets the distinct feeling he's being teased. “After all, you're the one who summoned me.”

Taekwoon can feel a blush spreading across his cheeks, but he tries to adopt the solemn affect he favors as a priest. “I'm always interested in new faces. Welcome to our family, Sanghyuk."

“Oh, I beg your pardon, Father," Sanghyuk says, voice oozing insincerity. “I don't want to join your church. Really, it's just that I'm drawn to pretty things. Especially pretty things I can't have.”

Taekwoon frowns. Something about Sanghyuk makes him feel off-kilter, the strong moral compass that has guided his entire life eerily silent in Sanghyuk’s presence. “I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about.”

“I suppose you could say my worst vice is greed,” Sanghyuk says, not acknowledging Taekwoon's words. “Although lust is probably a close second.”

There's a warning bell going off in Taekwoon’s head, something that says _danger danger danger,_ but it's like he's underwater, distant and distorted. “Do you — would you like to confess something, Sanghyuk? We can head over to the confessional, your sins are for God to hear, not me — “

“Oh, no. I really doubt that He wants to hear from me.” Sanghyuk laughs and Taekwoon feels like he’s missing out on a joke. “But if you’re more comfortable in a confessional, then by all means, Father, lead the way.”

“It’s not about me,” Taekwoon says quietly, bristling at Sanghyuk’s tone.

“Then what else would it be about?” Sanghyuk asks.

"I'm just here to guide you," Taekwoon says. "To help you find your way to God." The words are familiar, but for the first time in his life, they feel hollow.

"Of course you are." There's something about Sanghyuk's voice that always sounds like he's mocking Taekwoon, like he's humoring him. "Then guide me, Father. The confessional, you said?"

"Yes," Taekwoon says, turning abruptly on his heel to walk over to the confessional. He doesn't want to think of it as running away, but he can't deny the surge of relief when he sits on the chair and closes the door. He jumps when he hears Sanghyuk's voice from the other side of the screen; he must've been so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't hear Sanghyuk opening the door or sitting down.

"So, Father." Even though Taekwoon can't see him, Sanghyuk's voice sounds closer than it should, like he's speaking directly into Taekwoon's ear. "Guide me."

Taekwoon makes the sign of the cross. He ignores how his hands are shaking slightly. "In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit." He waits, but when he doesn't get a response, he prompts, "And then you say, 'amen.'"

"Already?" Sanghyuk asks. "I haven't confessed to anything yet."

The urge to tell Sanghyuk off rises in his chest — he'd said he didn't want to join the congregation and now he's treating Taekwoon’s faith, his _life,_ like it's a joke — but he tamps down the urge. It's not very professional to kick someone out of confession, no matter how obnoxious they might be. "Ah, no, it's — this is the procedure."

"Interesting," Sanghyuk says. "Father, tell me, who do priests confess to?"

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Who do you tell, Father?" Sanghyuk purrs. "Or have you ever told?"

"Sanghyuk." Usually he can be firmer, but something about Sanghyuk gets him completely off-balance and Taekwoon's voice sounds shaky even to his own ears. "I don't think this is — "

"So you haven't told anyone." Taekwoon hears shifting from the other side of the screen. "Nobody knows what you are."

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Taekwoon whispers, but he's lying. It's all finally hit him — the words, the teasing, the stares — and his heart is pounding in his chest, his mouth sour with anxiety.

Sanghyuk clicks his tongue in admonishment. “Lying in a church doesn't seem very holy, Father. Add that to the fact that you want to lie with men and the fate of your eternal soul isn't looking too good.”

All the breath leaves Taekwoon’s lungs. “I don't — ” he tries to start, but his throat is too dry with panic and he has to swallow painfully and try again. “I'm not…that. I'm a priest, I've never — ”

“Don't try to tell me you haven't touched yourself to the thought of a man before,” Sanghyuk murmurs. "I can taste it when you lie. Just like I can taste how much you want me.”

“No,” Taekwoon whispers hoarsely. "You — you need to leave, this isn't appropriate — ”

“You need to go slowly,” Sanghyuk says, sounding cool and unaffected. “I understand. We can start off just like this, can't we, Father?”

“Start?” Taekwoon asks.

“Well, I'd like to get a bit further next time,” Sanghyuk replies. "You do have such a pretty mouth, it's a shame it hasn't ever been put to proper use.” He chuckles and it makes a shiver run down Taekwoon’s spine. “You can think about that tonight, Father. I'll see you next week.”

Taekwoon sits, frozen, waiting for Sanghyuk to leave, but minutes pass and he doesn't hear any movement from the other side of the screen. Finally, he gathers up enough courage to stand on shaky legs and stumble out, whipping around to face the confessional again once he's standing in front of it. Slowly, he reaches out for the handle of the door Sanghyuk was sitting behind, and then he yanks it open with a quick pull, already jumping back before he can even see inside.

The confessional is empty.

Taekwoon is in a daze as he hangs up his robes and packs his briefcase. He doesn't remember the drive to his house; by the time he's home, he's almost convinced himself that he'd made it all up.

It doesn't stop Sanghyuk’s words from burning into his brain. They circle around his head as he putters about his house for the rest of the day, as he cooks himself supper, as he gets ready for bed. He tries to ignore it as he showers, only touching his dick as much as he needs to in order to be clean. Even that, the utilitarian slip of his soapy hand over his length, makes him think of Sanghyuk. His hand scrabbles at the wall, twisting the knob until the water is frigid. He grits his teeth and forces himself to stand under icy spray. Penance, he tells himself. Penance for things he hasn't done, but penance all the same.

Still, when he steps out of the shower, he doesn't feel as clean as he'd wanted. It's as though Sanghyuk’s voice had settled over him and seeped into his skin. He tries to ignore it as he slips into his bed, but in the quiet of night, he can't stop his mind from going round in circles. _You do have such a pretty mouth,_ Sanghyuk had said. _It's a shame it hasn't ever been put to proper use._

Does that mean Sanghyuk wants to kiss him? His thoughts fly to Sanghyuk’s lips, pouty and lush, and he can feel his face warm at the idea of kissing them. He'd only kissed a girl once when he was sixteen, and it had been chaste and awkward and over quickly, which he’d been grateful for. Now, though, he thinks he wouldn't mind it if Sanghyuk took his time with him, if he kissed him wet and deep and slow. Taekwoon can feel his mouth start to water at the thought.

Or maybe Sanghyuk meant something even more sinful. Taekwoon has never — he’s heard of people doing it, watched porn when he was a teenager before he committed his life to God, but — the idea of actually putting his mouth on someone — it feels filthy, depraved.

But he can’t stop himself from thinking about it all the same. Sanghyuk is a large man, taller and broader and stronger than Taekwoon. He’s probably large, Taekwoon’s traitorous mind whispers to him, and he turns his face into his pillow to muffle a whimper. He’s never even touched anyone before, he has no grounds to be judging by size, but the idea of Sanghyuk’s cock thick and heavy in his hand, stretching his lips out and pushing against the inside of his cheek, has Taekwoon squirming slightly. His own erection is starting to push against his boxers, desperate in a way that he’s not familiar with. It’s worse, now that there’s someone specific in his mind while he tries to ignore it.

He whispers the Lord’s Prayer to himself over and over and over again, his voice cracking whenever he comes to the line _forgive us our trespasses._ Sleep takes hours to come, and even when it does he dreams of dark creatures in dark suits and hot mouths and large hands.

When Taekwoon wakes up, the insides of his boxers are coated with come, but his cock is already half-hard again. He rolls over onto his front and grinds down against the mattress until he comes again, telling himself that he’s still asleep enough for it not to count.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Taekwoon awaits the next Sunday with a combination of dread and anticipation. Part of him thinks that Sanghyuk is a figment of his imagination, a wet dream that’s gotten out of hand.

Another part of him is painfully curious about what exactly Sanghyuk wants from him.

He’s disappointed when the sermon starts, though. The first pew is populated by a large family instead of Sanghyuk, and when Taekwoon tries to look discreetly through the congregation for him he comes up empty.

He tries to tell himself it’s for the best that the temptation is gone, and he’s actually convinced himself of this by the end of the service. Shame curls hot in his stomach. He’d really let himself be led astray by the mere idea of a man, even after years of following the Word and restricting himself. He’s muttering Hail Marys to himself, clinging to his rosary as he does so as if the tighter he holds it the more likely his chance of forgiveness, when he feels the warmth of someone’s body press up against his back.

“You’re wound up awfully tight today, aren’t you, Father?”

Taekwoon doesn’t want to admit that the thrill of adrenaline that shoots through him is due to excitement, doesn’t want to admit that he presses himself back against Sanghyuk just to feel him closer. He tells himself that it’s fear, that he jumped out of shock and just happened to leap back into Sanghyuk. It doesn’t stop him from savoring how warm Sanghyuk is against him.

“I was just preoccupied with the — the communion dish,” Taekwoon says, hating how breathless he sounds. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

Sanghyuk’s nose brushes against the shell of Taekwoon’s ear. “But I always keep my promises, Father. I have plenty of vices, but I don’t lie. At least, not about this.”

Taekwoon can barely force himself to ask, “About what?”

“Mmm, don’t you know, Father?” Sanghyuk murmurs. “You have to know by now.”

“I don’t,” Taekwoon whispers.

“Fuck, you’re precious.” Sanghyuk lets out a deep breath and Taekwoon can feel the warmth of it against his ear. “Sometimes I forget how sweet virgins are.”

Taekwoon swallows hard, sure that Sanghyuk can hear it with how close he is. “You know I’ve taken vows.”

“Of course,” Sanghyuk says. “That’s what makes it even better. My favorite thing is taking someone who’s convinced themselves they want abstain from sex their whole life and then making them beg for my cock.”

“My body and soul belong to God,” Taekwoon says, but it sounds weak even to his ears.

Sanghyuk laughs and steps even closer. Taekwoon thinks he can feel the brush of Sanghyuk’s lips against his ear. “Well, God seems like a bit of a controlling bastard, doesn’t he?”

“No,” Taekwoon whispers. “No, no, I’m doing the right thing — ”

Sanghyuk takes a step to the side and comes into Taekwoon’s field of vision, his face unbearably close to Taekwoon’s. “How do you even know?” he asks. “Have you even kissed anyone?”

“Yes,” Taekwoon insists. “I kissed a girl back in — ”

Sanghyuk laughs at him, properly throws back his head and laughs, and Taekwoon wishes he could sink into the carpet beneath his feet. “Oh, you _are_ adorable. Tell me, Father, isn’t it easy to be a prude when you don’t even want to kiss a girl?”

“I don’t kiss girls because it’s against my vows,” Taekwoon says desperately. “I’ve made my choice, I decided when I was young — “

“But did you ever give yourself a chance to kiss a boy, Father?” Sanghyuk looms over him. “Don’t you think you ought to try it before locking yourself away for the rest of your life?”

“My vows — ” Taekwoon whispers.

“Your vows will be there even if you commit one tiny little sin. Come on, Father,” Sanghyuk coaxes. “One little kiss. How much damage can one kiss do?”

Taekwoon has had reasons for years. He’s always had excuses to fall back on, the strength of his conviction to guide him, but now — now he turns his head slightly and catches Sanghyuk’s eye and he can’t think of a single reason.

Sanghyuk smiles at his silence. “See? Don’t you want it, Father?”

Taekwoon doesn’t know why he nods. He doesn’t know why he tilts his head back or lets his mouth fall open, but he does and it’s a clear invitation to Sanghyuk, who leans in and presses their lips together.

At first, Taekwoon thinks it isn’t too different from kissing that girl years ago. Lips and teeth and noses are all the same, after all. It’s when Sanghyuk steps closer and wraps a strong arm around his waist that Taekwoon’s world view seems to tilt on its side. He can feel the hard line of Sanghyuk’s body against him, muscular and powerful, and Taekwoon has never felt small before but he thinks...he thinks he might like it more than he’d anticipated.

Taekwoon feels completely at Sanghyuk’s mercy. When he tugs at Taekwoon’s waist, Taekwoon follows without even thinking, letting Sanghyuk pull him close until their fronts are pressed together. He wants to be embarrassed because he knows he can’t be a good kisser, he hasn’t had enough practice, but Sanghyuk kisses him so well he can’t be bothered to think about it. He’d never thought kissing would appeal to him — thought it would be too wet and messy — but Sanghyuk’s lips are hot against his and when Sanghyuk’s tongue slips out to brush against his, he feels something warm and unfamiliar shoot through his abdomen.

When Sanghyuk pulls back, a small noise breaks free from Taekwoon’s lips and he claps his hands over his mouth. Not only had he kissed a man, he’d liked it so much that he sounded needy as soon as Sanghyuk’s lips were taken away. Hot shame washes over him as he realizes Sanghyuk was right; it was far easier to abstain when he only had to worry about women.

“Any thoughts, Father?” Sanghyuk asks, his lips brushing Taekwoon’s cheek as he speaks.

Words desert Taekwoon. He can’t even think straight, every thought derailed by the fact that he knows what he wants and it’s right in front of him. All he can do it let out another quiet sound, something almost like a whimper.

Taekwoon can feel how Sanghyuk’s lips are curled into a smile when Sanghyuk leans down to kiss him again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before, Taekwoon had always prided himself on not being lustful. Sanghyuk was right about the fact that he was a virgin, among other things. But now, just kisses from a man (or whatever he might be, Taekwoon tries not to think on it too hard) and Taekwoon can hardly keep his hands off himself when he gets home, his head filled with the memories of how Sanghyuk's lips had felt against his, hot and wet and _knowing._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all righty so warning for degradation? and use of whore in a sexy way? also edging and some super light painplay, woohoo let's party m'dudes

Sanghyuk’s lips haunt Taekwoon for the next week. If he thought it had been bad before, it's nothing compared to now. He's jumpy, on-edge, constantly looking over his shoulder for he's not sure what. He can't tell if he fears judgment or if he's anticipating Sanghyuk's return.

Once Sanghyuk had left him that Sunday, lips swollen and head spinning, Taekwoon hadn't known what to think. There's some part of him that's distantly horrified, but not in the same visceral way he used to feel. The more time he spends around Sanghyuk, the more the voice in the back of his mind that's always held him back from sin seems to fade, leaving nothing but Taekwoon's circling thoughts in his head.

Before, he'd always prided himself on not being lustful. Sanghyuk was right about the fact that he was a virgin, among other things. But now, just kisses from a man (or whatever he might be, Taekwoon tries not to think on it too hard) and Taekwoon can hardly keep his hands off himself when he gets home, his head filled with the memories of how Sanghyuk's lips had felt against his, hot and wet and _knowing._

By the time the next Sunday rolls around, Taekwoon finds himself hard at the thought of Sanghyuk, no matter how often he jerks off at night.

He's worried Sanghyuk might not attend the service again — even though he probably should worry more if he's there — but when he steps up in front of the congregation, Sanghyuk is there as always. Even his posture is irreverent in some way, the way he crosses his long legs and stretches his arms across the back of the pew. He looks like he's spectating a baseball game rather than a Catholic service. Taekwoon should be angry about it, but all he can think about is how the posture emphasizes how large Sanghyuk is.

This time, Taekwoon doesn't stumble over his sermon at all. It flows smoothly through his lips, but he's hardly aware of it. It's distant, just like the jangling of his conscience when Sanghyuk meets his eye and winks at him.

The service passes in a blur, and by the time Taekwoon is alone again, he's come back to himself ever so slightly. It's just enough that when Sanghyuk saunters up to him with his thumbs tucked in his pockets, Taekwoon can resist meeting his eye.

"Sanghyuk," he says, trying to keep his voice steady. "How was your week?"

"Oh, it's been a hard week," Sanghyuk says, smirking. "I couldn't stop thinking about you, Father. You know, I always thought that time passed so quickly for me, but just waiting this week for you has been — well, it's been hell."

Taekwoon stills. "Would you know about that?"

"What do you mean?" Sanghyuk rests his elbow on the podium, lazily flicking through the wafer-thin pages of the Bible lying there. "I know what your sermons tell me. Hellfire and brimstone and eternal suffering, right?"

"For humans, yes," Taekwoon says quietly.

Sanghyuk's smile sharpens. "And what do you think I am?"

Taekwoon shrugs, fighting back the part of him that feels like a fool for even questioning it. "I'm not entirely sure."

"You know, you can't blame your attraction to me on that, though," Sanghyuk says. "You've always had those desires, I've just...given you an outlet."

Taekwoon's hands curl into fists at his sides. "I've been a holy man," he says lowly. "All my adult life, I've lived my life by the Church's teachings — "

"That doesn't change what's in that pretty little head of yours," Sanghyuk cuts in. "I know, I could taste it before I even showed up at your service. You're a proud man, Father, and you always have been. Even when you've been living your life of righteousness, you take pride in it in a way that isn't holy."

"Be quiet," Taekwoon hisses. "I gave my life to God — "

"But not your mind," Sanghyuk singsongs. "Not the thoughts in your head."

"No — "

"Oh, Father," Sanghyuk says, sounding like he's taking pity. "You think I've led you astray, don't you?"

"Obviously," Taekwoon replies.

Sanghyuk chuckles. "I never could have appeared to a truly holy man, Father."

The words hit Taekwoon like a wave of icy water, chilling him to the bone. "What do you mean?"

"What do you think I mean?" Sanghyuk steps closer. Taekwoon can't tell if it's just a figment of his imagination or if Sanghyuk really does become taller to loom over him. "Father, I know I'm here to tempt you with lust, but it was your pride that opened the door."

"You're lying — " Taekwoon whispers, but he's cut off by Sanghyuk's laugh.

"If you weren't so arrogant, so proud, I never could've entered your church. But look." He licks his finger and then runs it across the front of the pulpit, leaving a smear of saliva across the wood. "I can do whatever I damn well please. Do you think I could do that if a truly holy man preached here? And now, look at you." He steps even closer and _sniffs._ "You're gagging for it, aren't you? How many times have you touched yourself thinking of me? Every night this week? You've already fallen so far, Father."

"It's because of you," Taekwoon says desperately.

“Oh, I know,” Sanghyuk purrs. “But it’s still you who’s fallen.”

“Then — you should go,” Taekwoon says, but his heart isn’t in the words and they both know it. Still, if Sanghyuk is what he thinks he is, Taekwoon feels like should at least put up a token effort.

“You don’t really want me to do that, Father.” Sanghyuk's finger that had trailed across the pulpit is now raised to Taekwoon's lips, still damp with spit. Taekwoon almost expects it to burn him, but instead it's slightly cooled by the air and Taekwoon has to stop himself from shivering at the touch. "You don't want me to leave you hanging this time, do you?" His finger pushes past Taekwoon's lips, the pad of his fingertip slipping over Taekwoon's tongue. Taekwoon is frozen in place, letting Sanghyuk take whatever he wants.

"Look at you," Sanghyuk breathes. "I knew your mouth would be pretty wrapped around something."

The _something,_ the implication of what Sanghyuk was thinking, hits Taekwoon hard and he swallows involuntarily, his lips closing around Sanghyuk's fingers with a wet sound. Taekwoon is mortified, but Sanghyuk isn't smiling for once. Instead, he's looking at Taekwoon's mouth wrapped around his fingers with an intensity that Taekwoon can almost physically feel.

“Is there anywhere else we can go that’s a little more private?” he asks, pulling his finger out to slowly run the tip across Taekwoon’s lips. “I don’t have any problems with this, but you don’t strike me as the type to want to fuck in the sanctuary on the first go.”

Hearing it out loud should jolt Taekwoon out of it. He should remember who he is, _what_ he is, but all he does is say, “My office.”

“Lead the way, Father.”

When they reach his office, Taekwoon locks the door, trying to ignore the implications of the action. A locked door means he has something to hide.

Once he’s slipped his keychain back into his pocket, Taekwoon turns to face the room only to realize that Sanghyuk is inches away, looming over him once again.

“What should I do with you first?” Sanghyuk muses. “You’re so sweet, falling apart from just kisses and a finger in your pretty mouth."

Taekwoon still has the presence of mind to feel embarrassed at Sanghyuk’s words and he feels a flush rise in his cheeks. “I didn’t fall apart — ”

“Didn’t you, though?” Sanghyuk’s head lowers so that his lips skim over the delicate skin of Taekwoon’s neck. “All I had to do was kiss you and you’ve already let me into your office. I think you’d let me do just about anything, isn’t that right, Father?”

“I — ” Taekwoon stops and steels himself, trying to stop his mind swimming from Sanghyuk’s proximity. “I still have the final say.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Sanghyuk purrs. “That’s the best part.”

“What do you mean?” Taekwoon asks. His voice breaks on the last syllable when Sanghyuk nips at his neck.

“It’s like I told you before.” Sanghyuk turns his head so their noses graze each other and their eyes meet. “I want you to be begging for it because you want it so badly.”

“It’s not like I can beg for something I don’t even know,” Taekwoon mutters.

“Well, then, let me tell you about what I have in mind.” Sanghyuk presses even closer, his feet between Taekwoon’s and their hips and chests aligned. A strong arm comes up to wrap around Taekwoon’s waist, pulling him against Sanghyuk’s front. “Mmm, I want to take my time with you.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Taekwoon manages.

Sanghyuk laughs and Taekwoon has to stop himself from taking the Lord’s name in vain, because he can feel Sanghyuk all up against him, can feel the huff of his breath against his cheek and the way his abdomen clenches at the exhalation. “Father, you have no idea how easily I could’ve had you already.”

And apparently even if Taekwoon’s conscience is sleeping, his pride is not. In fact, it burns hotter in his chest, as if Sanghyuk’s mere presence stokes something inside of him. He tries not to think of Sanghyuk's words earlier — _Do you think I could do that if a truly holy man preached here?_ “You don't know that,” he says indignantly. “You can’t even know that I want — ”

“Oh, yes, I do.” Sanghyuk nips at Taekwoon’s earlobe. “I told you, I can taste it on you, Father. I could ever since the first time you saw me.”

“How?” Taekwoon asks. “ _I_ didn't even know the first time you showed up."

"Maybe you didn't acknowledge it," Sanghyuk says. "But that doesn't mean the sin wasn't there, just waiting to be committed."

"That's not fair." Taekwoon fights to keep his voice steady when Sanghyuk starts kissing down his jawline. "Everyone thinks about sinning, it's our actions that count — "

"Oh, of course," Sanghyuk agrees. "But look at your actions, Father. How many priests do you know who would take a demon back to their office just to get off, hm?"

Taekwoon closes his eyes. "So that's what you are."

"Are you trying to say you didn't know?"

"No...no." As he says it, Taekwoon realizes it's true. He should be feeling far more than he is right now. He should be panicking, overwhelmed by guilt and shame and a need to repent; instead all he feels is the quiet calm of his suspicions being confirmed and beneath that, curiosity and something altogether more shameful burning in his gut.

"You're so interesting, Father," Sanghyuk murmurs. "Shouldn't you be scared?"

Yes, Taekwoon thinks, but his mouth, his stupid prideful mouth, opens and says, "I have no reason to be scared of you."

Sanghyuk grins and it feels more like a snarl than a smile. "We'll see."

Taekwoon musters up any courage he has (and maybe some of it — or maybe a lot of it — is really just stubbornness) and looks up into Sanghyuk's eyes. "We will."

Sanghyuk laughs, and then Taekwoon finds himself pushed back against the door to his office, Sanghyuk's body pinning him there. "So," Sanghyuk says. "What should I do with you, Father?"

Taekwoon's heart is pounding in his chest. He licks his lips before speaking. "Make me — " His voice cracks and he swallows hard and tries again. "Make me feel good."

"Oh, I can absolutely do that." Sanghyuk's thigh slips between Taekwoon’s and he rolls his hips excruciatingly slowly. Taekwoon gasps, feeling the press of Sanghyuk’s body against his. “I bet you could come like this, couldn’t you, Father?”

Taekwoon’s hands scrabble at the wooden door behind him, desperate to grab onto something but still wanting to keep a modicum of control over himself. “What’s the point in that?” he asks breathlessly. “You’re a demon, you must have… _experience,_ but all you’re going to do is hump me up against a door — ”

Sanghyuk growls and his hands dig into Taekwoon’s hips. His fingers feel almost sharp, and Taekwoon is slightly afraid of what he might see if he looks down.

“I could break you,” Sanghyuk whispers.

Taekwoon shudders at the thought, but he can’t even convince himself it’s out of horror or disgust. “Do it,” he breathes. “If you can.”

Before he can think, Sanghyuk’s mouth is on his again, burning hot, ruthless as he nips at Taekwoon’s lips and licks his way into his mouth. Taekwoon's hips are pinned in place. All he can do is squirm as Sanghyuk grinds against him, his cock pressed between them.

Sanghyuk breaks the kiss to whisper in Taekwoon's ear, his breath hot, "Have you ever thought about someone's mouth on you? Someone sucking your pretty little cock, hm?"

All the breath leaves Taekwoon's lungs. He doesn't know what response Sanghyuk is expecting — should he be honest and tell Sanghyuk that he's thought about his lips everywhere on him? That ever since their first kiss, he hasn't been able to get the image of Sanghyuk's pouty lips around the head of his cock, looking up at him knowingly through his lashes?

Apparently, Sanghyuk doesn’t need him to answer. “I bet you have,” he says, one of his hands sliding from Taekwoon’s hip to his crotch and pressing the heel of his hand right underneath the sensitive head of his cock. "How fast do you come when you think about me sucking your cock, hm? Do you even have to touch yourself or do you just rut against your sheets?"

The accuracy of the statements makes Taekwoon bury his face in Sanghyuk's neck, as if that will hide what he's done. But then Sanghyuk is pulling away slightly, leaving Taekwoon exposed and waiting. Taekwoon makes a small confused noise, but then he feels fingers plucking at the front of his cassock, pulling the material up from around his legs.

It feels completely foreign. No one's ever been this close or seen this much of him, and his pulse is pounding in his ears so loudly that it takes him a moment to realize that Sanghyuk has pulled the hem of his cassock up until Taekwoon's entire bottom half is revealed. He's still wearing his black trousers, but he can feel a distinct coolness where the skin right above his hips is exposed, and he resists the urge to squirm or yank the fabric back down.

Sanghyuk looks at him contemplatively, and it's just as unnerving as the stripping of Taekwoon's clothes. "How loud can we be, Father?"

"What?" Taekwoon asks. "Why?"

"Because I want to know if I can just ask you to hold this up with your hands when I suck you off," Sanghyuk says, "or if I should stuff your mouth with it."

A small whimper falls from Taekwoon's lips and Sanghyuk grins. "Or maybe I should let everyone hear how badly you want it."

Taekwoon shakes his head hastily. "No, they can't — "

"Well, then," Sanghyuk says as he raises the cassock's hem to Taekwoon's face and shoves the fabric between his teeth, "we'd better take some precautions, hm?"

Taekwoon whimpers, but the sound is almost entirely muffled by the thick black cloth in his mouth. He clenches his teeth tightly down on the fabric, pushing down the urge to reach out for Sanghyuk.

Sanghyuk tilts his head. "You look pretty with your mouth full."

Shame courses through Taekwoon's stomach, burning hot, and his hands fly to his face to try to hide, but Sanghyuk grabs his wrists and pins them back against the door.

"No hiding," he says fiercely. "Not anymore."

Taekwoon can't think of a response before Sanghyuk drops to his knees in front of him.

"Look at you," Sanghyuk says, sounding almost reverent. "All worked up. Should I get you out of these, hm? Would you like that?"

Taekwoon lets his chin dip in the barest of nods, but that's all Sanghyuk needs to lean forward and nuzzle against the hard line of Taekwoon's cock. His hands let go of Taekwoon's wrists to quickly unbutton his trousers, licking at him through his briefs. The heat of his tongue makes Taekwoon's knees buckle, and his head falls back and hits the door with a quiet _thud._

He feels Sanghyuk chuckle against him before his mouth opens to suckle at the head of Taekwoon's cock, the tip of his tongue rubbing the fabric against his sensitive skin in a way that's almost too rough but not quite. It's such a small pinpoint of pleasure, but Taekwoon feels it throughout his entire body, his thighs flexing and his hands clenching into fists.

He isn't proud of the squeak he lets out when Sanghyuk yanks his briefs down around his thighs, but he's glad the makeshift gag mostly muffles it. He has to fight the urge to turn his knees in and squeeze his legs together — he's more exposed than he's ever been, and on top of that, Sanghyuk is eyeing him like he's a meal.

"Even your cock is pretty, isn't it?" he says, reaching up to trail a finger down Taekwoon's shaft. "It would've been such a shame for no one to ever touch it. It's a good thing I'm here." He leans forward and traces the tip of his tongue right over where his finger had been. It shouldn't feel that different, Taekwoon thinks, but this touch is even more than before. It's soft and wet in a way that Taekwoon's imagination hadn't done justice during the past week. Taekwoon whines in the back of his throat, his hips jerking slightly.

"You're so easy," Sanghyuk admonishes. "We're going to have to teach you some patience." He noses down Taekwoon's shaft until his mouth is pressed wet and open against one of his balls, his tongue laving over the delicate skin the most sensation Taekwoon has experienced yet. 

When Sanghyuk licks a wide stripe from Taekwoon's balls to the tip of his cock, Taekwoon's hands fly to Sanghyuk's hair, thighs trembling from how _much_ it is. Sanghyuk pushes his head back against Taekwoon’s hands, and after a moment it clicks — Sanghyuk is encouraging him to hold on, to grip his hair.

Taekwoon doesn’t think twice before obeying.

When his fingers slide through Sanghyuk’s hair and get a tight hold, Sanghyuk growls against him and pushes his hips back hard against the door, making it rattle in its frame. Taekwoon can’t do anything but tug desperately at Sanghyuk’s hair as he holds Taekwoon in place and takes his cock into his mouth.

Taekwoon’s first instinct is to close his eyes, as if not being able to see will somehow prevent the feeling from being so overwhelming. The way Sanghyuk’s lips wrap around him, the wet slide of his tongue, the heat of his mouth — it all hits Taekwoon at once, drawing a moan from him.

When he cracks an eye open to look down at Sanghyuk, it’s even worse. Sanghyuk’s lips are so full, so pink around Taekwoon, and every time he pulls back until just the head is in his mouth, Taekwoon can see his own cock shining with spit and flushed an almost painful-looking red. But the worst part is Sanghyuk’s eyes, looking up at him through his lashes, and Taekwoon can’t tell if his mind is playing tricks on him or if Sanghyuk’s eyes are really as black as pitch.

When their eyes meet, Sanghyuk’s nails dig into Taekwoon’s hips, sending a shot of pain through him, but instead of turning him off, it makes the heat in his gut tighten and tighten and he spits out the cassock and gasps, “I’m gonna — gonna — ”

Suddenly, the only thing he can feel is the coolness of air against his wet cock and Sanghyuk’s nails (too sharp, sharper than before) on his hips, holding him in place.

“No,” Taekwoon whines. It _hurts._ The pain brings tears to his eyes and he can’t stop himself from trying to buck his hips forward, chasing after something Sanghyuk clearly isn’t going to give him. “No, no, no, please, I need — ”

“What you _need,_ ” Sanghyuk says as he rises from his knees, “is to be patient.” He’s standing over Taekwoon again, and Taekwoon feels even smaller than before, half undressed with his cock out and hard and dripping with spit. “You need to earn it.”

“What?” Taekwoon asks, still dazed from the pain. “I — I can ask, I can beg — ”

“No, no, Father.” Sanghyuk laughs. “As sweet as your begging is, I’d like something a little more direct.”

“Anything,” Taekwoon gasps. He’d never been cut off like this before. Even when he touched himself, he either stopped before he got close or lost control of himself. This kind of pain after how good Sanghyuk had made him feel just seconds before is more than he’d ever expected. More than that, his head is buzzing, spinning with the pain, but it’s the same sort of high that he gets when he thinks about Sanghyuk for too long. He _likes_ it, he realizes. He tries to muster up the shame he should feel at that, but all he can find inside himself is the need for more.

“On your knees, Father,” Sanghyuk says. When Taekwoon falls clumsily to his knees, his trousers and briefs still down about his thighs, Sanghyuk chuckles at him, running a finger underneath Taekwoon’s chin. “Almost like praying, hm?”

The blasphemy should horrify Taekwoon, but instead it makes him whimper, squeezing his thighs together to try to get some relief for his cock.

Sanghyuk gestures down at his own crotch where Taekwoon can see the outline of his cock inside his black trousers. Taekwoon had always known he wasn’t particularly large, but he hadn’t realized just how much larger it could get. His fingers tremble with adrenaline as he undoes Sanghyuk’s pants and gracelessly yanks them down, letting Sanghyuk’s cock spring free.

He’s uncut and thick, so thick that his length hangs down slightly even though he’s obviously fully erect. He wraps his fingers around the base, tilting it up toward Taekwoon. Precome glistens on the head when he pulls his foreskin back slightly and then pushes it back over again, making slick drip down the underside of his shaft.

“Want it?” Sanghyuk asks lowly, and Taekwoon can’t do anything but nod eagerly. “Then come here, Father.”

Taekwoon shuffles forward on his knees, eyes fixed on the wet head of Sanghyuk’s cock. He doesn’t even realize his mouth is open until he feels the warmth of his own spit dripping down over his chin. _Drooling for it,_ he hears in the back of his mind in Sanghyuk’s voice.

Once he’s level with Sanghyuk, he isn’t entirely sure what to do. He looks up beseechingly at Sanghyuk, all shame replaced by a drive to make Sanghyuk happy so he’ll let Taekwoon come.

Sanghyuk quirks his eyebrow. “Didn’t you learn anything, Father?”

Taekwoon blinks uncomprehendingly at him for a moment before he realizes what he means. He looks back down at Sanghyuk’s cock and reaches for it tentatively. He traces a line down the shaft with his fingertip, just like Sanghyuk had done to him. The skin is velvety soft, and his immediate instinct is to want to know what it’ll taste like, how it’ll feel under his tongue. So he leans forward, tilts Sanghyuk’s cock down toward his mouth, and gingerly takes the head into his mouth.

The first thing he thinks is that it’s not...it doesn’t feel unnatural like he’d always thought it would. It’s just the head, of course, but Taekwoon finds himself enjoying how he can feel the foreskin sliding against his tongue and the softness of the head when he suckles gently at it. He hears Sanghyuk’s breath catch in his throat above him, and it makes him suck a bit harder. The precome is salty against his tongue and he laps at the slit, wondering if Sanghyuk will like the feeling.

“Don’t you want more, Father?” Sanghyuk asks, his voice deeper than before. “Can’t you take it?”

And Taekwoon isn’t sure if it’s pride or lust or something else altogether that drives him, but at Sanghyuk’s words, he pushes himself as far down on Sanghyuk’s cock as he can. As he gets past the head, he can feel how the thickness of the shaft stretches his lips, how it makes his mouth feel full and used and _good._ He tries to think of what Sanghyuk had done to him that he’d liked, and he bobs his head, fucking his mouth down onto Sanghyuk’s cock.

He looks up at Sanghyuk questioningly, pulling off to ask, “Like that?”

“That’s not bad,” Sanghyuk says, but he’s breathing heavily, eyes black and fixed on Taekwoon. “Use your hands too.”

“But you didn’t — ” Taekwoon starts.

“Because you’re small,” Sanghyuk interrupts. “I can swallow you down easily, Father. Do you really think you can say the same about me?”

Taekwoon’s eyes drop to Sanghyuk’s cock again, shining wet with his spit. He steels himself, takes it back into his hand, and tries to fit even more of it into his mouth. He ignores how the corners of his mouth feel stretched to the point of burning with every thrust of his mouth down and focuses and trying to reach the base with his lips.

Before he can choke himself, he feels a sharp pain in his scalp pulling him off and he gives in, whining at how it hurts (but not really _minding_ it so much as wishing he could have it at the same time as a cock in his mouth).

“You’re going to hurt yourself, Father,” Sanghyuk says sternly, yanking Taekwoon’s hair again to make his point. “And as cute as you are when you’re begging for my cock, I’d rather not have to deal with a human’s gag reflex.” Taekwoon whines, but Sanghyuk shushes him. “Just use your hands. Don’t you want me to come, hm?”

And that — for whatever reason, that hadn’t fully hit Taekwoon until now. The fact that Sanghyuk is going to come in his mouth, mark him, _use_ him comes to the forefront of his mind. Without even thinking about it, he wraps his hands around the base of Sanghyuk’s cock and sucks the head back into his mouth.

He tries to pump his mouth and hands in time, but he feels uncoordinated and overwhelmed. Even if it weren’t his first time touching another person, he thinks the sheer size of Sanghyuk’s shaft would throw him off, his fingers barely able to circle its girth and the tip of it still pushing far into his mouth even with the help of his hands.

Taekwoon can feel the mess he’s making, spit dripping from his mouth over his chin and hands. It reminds him of his own cock, still hard between his thighs and sticky with precome and Sanghyuk’s saliva, smearing slick across his legs. It just makes him try harder, squeezing around the base and sucking hard at the head until he can taste more precome on his tongue.

Above him, Sanghyuk is saying all manner of words that shouldn’t be uttered in a priest’s presence, let alone in a church, but all it does is stoke Taekwoon’s arousal even higher.

“Fuck,” Sanghyuk is panting. “You look like a whore, you look like a _fucking_ whore with your pretty lips all stretched and your cock still out and hard, you look like you need to be fucked properly — ”

Taekwoon whines around Sanghyuk’s cock at the words, dropping one hand to his crotch to pull his cassock down over his still-hard dick.

“I don’t think so, Father.” Sanghyuk kicks Taekwoon’s hand away, replacing it with his foot, and _oh,_ Taekwoon had never thought that would be good. He never thought he’d want to be stepped on, to feel the hard press of Sanghyuk’s shoe against his cock with no protection but the rough fabric of the cassock.

“You want to be touched?” Sanghyuk teases. Taekwoon makes a garbled noise around Sanghyuk’s cock that he seems to take for a yes. “This is the only touch whores get.”

Taekwoon mewls, his hips kicking up against Sanghyuk’s shoe involuntarily. His brain narrows down to the points of contact between the two of them, the friction against his cock and the slide of Sanghyuk’s length in his mouth and hands. He feels filthy, spit and precome down his chin, probably dripping onto the front of his cassock, and when looks up, the satisfied look in Sanghyuk’s eyes makes him feel like he’s being used for nothing more than Sanghyuk’s pleasure.

It shouldn’t be so hot, it shouldn’t feel better than when Sanghyuk was sucking him off, but there’s something about it that makes Taekwoon’s head buzz and the tension curl in his stomach again. He fucks his mouth desperately on Sanghyuk’s cock, hoping that if he distracts him then he won’t cut Taekwoon off again.

But all he gets is a breathless laugh from Sanghyuk. “Go ahead, Father,” he pants. “Come in your fucking holy clothing while you choke on a cock, show us all what a whore you really are.”

Taekwoon’s body tenses up faster than he anticipated and he almost chokes in surprise. He grinds up against Sanghyuk’s shoe, his thighs squeezing around his foot as his hips work clumsily. He feels the come soiling the inside of his cassock, but he can’t stop himself, not when he’s been waiting so long. It’s hot and wet and it should be disgusting, but all he feels is relief and pleasure.

“There you go,” Sanghyuk murmurs. “There you go.”

Taekwoon becomes distantly aware of the noises he’s making, practically sobbing as his body shakes with the aftershocks of orgasm. It can’t be like this every time, he thinks hazily. He feels Sanghyuk’s cock slip wetly out of his mouth and he looks up to see why, his eyes taking several seconds to focus again.

Sanghyuk is pumping himself in front of Taekwoon’s face. It makes Taekwoon blush to realize that the slick sounds of Sanghyuk’s hand on his cock are caused by Taekwoon’s spit, that he was actually that messy and depraved.

“Look at you,” Sanghyuk says, sounding awed in a way that makes Taekwoon very aware of what he must look like. “I knew your mouth would be pretty all fucked out like this.”

Taekwoon feels his mouth drop open again as he stares up at Sanghyuk. It’s true, his lips feel raw and swollen, and when he licks them, he shivers at the memory of Sanghyuk’s cock sliding between them.

“I bet you’d look even prettier if I came in your mouth,” Sanghyuk says, voice becoming uneven. “What do you think?”

Taekwoon’s eyes drop to the head of Sanghyuk’s cock, watching the slick head fuck in and out of his grip, and he unconsciously licks his lips. Sanghyuk laughs at him, but it’s ragged and he’s starting to fuck into his hand faster and faster.

“Open up,” Sanghyuk pants. “Open your filthy fucking mouth, whore.”

Taekwoon obeys without thinking, opening his mouth wide and letting his tongue stick out slightly. Sanghyuk curses and grabs Taekwoon by the hair with his free hand, jerking off right into his mouth. Taekwoon’s eyes water from the sting of his hair being pulled, but he keeps his eyes open and trained on Sanghyuk.

If Sanghyuk was attractive before, now he’s downright irresistible. Sweat is beading on his forehead and dripping down his neck, his lower lip is bitten between his teeth, and his slicked back hair is falling out of place. He looks like sin, and Taekwoon wants nothing more than to be used by him.

Sanghyuk curses and Taekwoon can see the muscles in his thighs tense as he comes. He shoves the head of his cock onto Taekwoon’s tongue, come spurting hot and bitter into his mouth.

“Don’t swallow yet,” Sanghyuk says breathlessly. “I want to see it, don’t swallow.”

Taekwoon does as he’s told, keeping his mouth open. When Sanghyuk is done, he lets his cock fall from Taekwoon’s mouth and he takes Taekwoon’s chin in his hand, surprisingly gentle considering everything that’s happened.

“Fucking beautiful,” Sanghyuk whispers. “Swallow it.”

Taekwoon swallows, not particularly enjoying the texture or the taste, but reveling in the way Sanghyuk looks at him like he’s a treasure.

“You’re mine,” Sanghyuk says lowly. “All mine.”

Taekwoon thinks this should scare him. Instead, he feels a sense of belonging, and he lets his head fall forward onto Sanghyuk’s thigh. He hears a laugh from above him and then he’s being helped to his feet.

“You’re a bit of a mess, Father,” Sanghyuk teases.

“What do you mean?” Taekwoon asks. The sound of his own voice makes him wince. It’s rough and tired, and it sounds like — well, it sounds like he’s been choking on dick.

“Here.” Sanghyuk lifts the hem of Taekwoon’s cassock to wipe at the corner of his mouth. “You had a bit of — you know.”

Taekwoon frowns, coming back to himself slightly. “You didn’t have to wipe it on my clothing.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize your clothes were reserved for your come only.”

Taekwoon blushes at the reminder, and he realizes his pants are still down around his knees. Sanghyuk seems to read his mind — Taekwoon should probably ask him later if he can — and reaches down to wipe at Taekwoon’s crotch with the inside of his cassock and then carefully pull his pants back up. Taekwoon notices that Sanghyuk already looks like every Sunday morning, hair neatly groomed and not a stitch out of place. He feels slightly bitter at the fact that he must look so clearly fucked out while Sanghyuk gets away unruffled.

“This is disgusting,” Taekwoon mutters as he looks down at himself. Not only is there come on the inside of his cassock, some spit trailed down his chin and has now crusted dry on the collar. “I can’t — this is fucking unholy.” It takes a moment for what he’s said to sink in, but then he claps his hands over his mouth and looks at Sanghyuk with wide eyes.

Sanghyuk grins at him. “I like you a lot, Father. See you next Sunday?”

“What?” Taekwoon asks, his brain still struggling to wrap its mind around everything he’s done.

“Well, I like you,” Sanghyuk says slowly as if he’s explaining something to a child. “And I rather think you like me, considering...well, considering. So. Can I see you again?”

Taekwoon wants to hesitate, wants to believe he has to actually think about it, but the truth is that he doesn’t. “Yes,” he says quietly. Where there should be shame, there is nothing but anticipation. “Next Sunday.”

Sanghyuk gives him a grin that walks the line between charming and wicked. “Delightful.”

And then Taekwoon blinks and Sanghyuk is gone. He wants to believe he fell asleep in his office, that this was all a dream, but his cassock is still sticky and every time he swallows he can taste a hint of Sanghyuk’s come. He shuffles through the motions of packing his things and locking up, his mind not entirely present. He doesn’t remember driving home or turning the key in the lock.

When he enters his house, he knows he should scrub his cassock carefully to remove any trace of the stains from it. As it is, he strips it off wearily, fills the sink with water and soap, and tosses the bundle of fabric in before stumbling into his bedroom and falling asleep.

For the first time in a long time, he sleeps peacefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey there demons, it's me, ya void, king of never knowing how long my shit's gonna be. i wanted to finish this for halloween, but this fucker keeps getting longer and longer and i still have a Whole Other sex scene to add to this, so i figured i'd give y'all this while i try to pound that out. hope you enjoyed~
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>  ~~also if you don't think this position is possible, you are incorrect because i made my girlfriend bring over a dildo so we could test it out and it worked so there~~  
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**Author's Note:**

> [kay voice] what if we pronounced dubcon like doob-con


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